Alexandrie goes stiff as Loki pulls her against him, although it is only surprise and the unconscious reaction of her body to being moved so strongly so suddenly. Once she is there and so held, her arms are quick to wrap around him in turn, much like they had before: one low near his waist, the other angled up so her fingers can spread wide between his shoulders.

It could not be called comfortable, the way they lie together once they have fallen back into the sheets. Although they have fit their bodies together a myriad of times and ways—and both are well versed in the particulars of such things—this kind of wild, hard, clutch is new, and awkward in its newness.

Her arm is trapped beneath him, her head at his shoulder in a way that will soon cramp her neck, but at the moment Alexandrie is unwilling to release her grip a hair, even to resettle in some other more graceful way.

In fact, she tightens it.